The Worst Part Of The Morning After
by Eliza4892
Summary: Post 3.18 Scars and Souvenirs. There are some things friends just shouldn't do. This is one of them.


Izzie only waited a few seconds more after realizing she was naked, George was naked, and they were in bed together to bolt. People did not just fall into bed naked together and not have…relations (she was not saying sex because this is George and they are _friends_), or at least she didn't. She didn't want to be there when he woke up.

The hallway was empty and both bedroom doors were closed. She closed hers too, hoping that no one would find George in there, especially since everyone seemed to be living there at the moment. Then, tired and just slightly hung-over she went downstairs to make coffee.

She passed by Derek, who was asleep on the couch, on her way into the kitchen where she discovered she wasn't the only one up early this morning. "Meredith."

"Hey," Meredith greeted with a too-bright smile. Izzie shook her head, figuring the whole 'I'm alive and people are what matters' mentality was probably back. As if that hadn't been annoying before, in light of recent situations Izzie could only imagine how much more grating it would be now. "It's your turn to do the shopping this week and we're out of orange juice." Meredith held up the now empty carton of juice before tossing it in the trash, and looking back at her. "You okay?"

Izzie glanced at her as she scooped coffee into the filter and pressed the 'on' button. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Because you look kind of flustered. Or confused. Maybe it's both." Meredith appeared to be studying her now. Sometimes Izzie wondered if Meredith did that purposefully in order to ignore and avoid her own issues. It seemed to work pretty well for her.

"I'm fine," Izzie replied, this time with a little too much force, aided by the slam of the coffee container against the wooden shelf she placed it on. So she wasn't good at masking her feelings. She was a model, not an actress. Turning to a surprised Meredith she lowered her voice to practically a whisper. Might have been more of a hiss. "I slept with George."

"Izzie!" Meredith exclaimed, and she heard what she took as a groan come from the living room. Derek she assumed. Izzie put a finger to her lips sharply, lowering her eyebrows. Voice down a few million decibels, not to mention the pitch, Meredith continued. "You slept with George."

"I just said that." She noted. Meredith gave her a reprimanding look, like she wanted to lecture her on all the reasons why this was so very wrong. Izzie could already list them all because the thought had occurred to her once or twice as a result of both alcohol and loneliness. It had never been like this though. "And you so don't get to act like you have the moral high ground here and I'm the slutty one because I seem to remember something very similar happening about three or four months."

This reminder, normally enough to shut Meredith up for a while, did nothing. "And did you learn nothing from that. It does not turn out well when we sleep with our friends. Especially not George." She got a look, as if just realizing something particularly unsettling, then, "Especially not when they're married. Callie's going to lose it if she finds out."

"Screw Callie," Izzie said, already a ball of nerves and regret without Meredith making matters any worse.

"No I believe that was George," Meredith responded, which would've been funny any other time except for now when it was just plain mean. "Hey, at least now you two have something in common."

"No, the heiress and I have nothing in common." Izzie insisted, though really, they did, Izzie would just never admit it. "And it's not like they had a particularly stable marriage to begin with. He came here to make me talk him into staying with her and not thinking it was some big mistake."

"And you were trying to accomplish this how?" The other woman asked, frowning deeply.

"He was venting and there was alcohol involved and it just…to be honest I don't really remember much of what happened last night." She ducked her head a little when she said it. "All I know is I woke up in bed with him and our clothes were all over the floor."

"So what are you going to do now?"

"I don't know." She replied in a tiny voice, because really this was terrifying. This was not a scenario she had toyed with. A relationship generally did not start off on the right foot when neither of the participants could remember the night it…started so to speak. And did she even really want the type of relationship with him anyway? They were friends, that was supposed to be it. "I didn't exactly plan this."

"Well you better figure it out soon." Meredith told her, picking at the toast that had been sitting in front of her ever since Izzie had walked in, yet had remained untouched. "You don't want to avoid him and let things spiral out of control. People stop talking to each other, and fall down stairs and dislocate things, and…isn't that technically how this all started in the first place?" Callie had been the doctor to pop George's shoulder back in. That had been the start. Maybe this was the end.

Izzie made a noise that sounded like a cross a moan and a sigh as she learned against the counter heavily. "I don't know how I'm supposed to get out of this."

"Get out of what?" Alex's voice piped up from the doorway, and she straightened immediately, this intense sensation of being caught hitting her, even though technically she hadn't been. He didn't have a clue what they were talking about.

"Nothing," she brushed it off, eyeing Meredith for a brief second, before saying, "I'm going to go shower before I leave." She looked at Alex, with a sugary sweet smile guaranteed to get his mind off of her earlier words. "Are you going to stay down here or do I need to barricade the door until we can have a lock installed?"

"I'm not that desperate," he replied, sarcastically. Whatever he had said the previous night, and all the tenderness that had accompanied it was now gone. That's the way it was when anyone else was around. The way it had to be. She had almost made it out the door, away from Alex, away from having to make any uncomfortable explanations, when he asked, "What happened to O'Malley? He was here when I got in last night."

Izzie couldn't help the blush that crept into her cheeks. Or the glance she sent in Meredith's direction. She didn't even remember him coming home the night before.

"What? Why do you look so guilty? Are you having sex with inappropriate men too? Spending too much time around this one," he nodded to Meredith, who just bit her lip and shook her head. Alex's words had been in jest, he wasn't serious, not that that really mattered because her delayed lack of a reaction had tipped him right off. She watched the look of shock pass over his face. "Shit."

"How did you…?" Izzie started, but trailed off, briefly wondering if she was that easy to read. She sure hoped not, in the interest of keeping this secret from as many people as she could. She wasn't off to such a great start.

"He has a gift." Meredith interjected, locking eyes with Alex. "The innate talent for knowing when women have slept with George." She broke her gaze and rolled her eyes. "Which really sucks by the way."

And really, making note of that look Alex was giving her, that sort of amused, but just a teensy bit hurt one, Izzie had to second that.


End file.
